


The Shape and The Shadow

by PinkBellPepper



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Captive, Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Rough Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, Timeline Divergence, hostage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29698014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkBellPepper/pseuds/PinkBellPepper
Summary: This is a diverging timeline from the story ‘Bear Traps and Crows’, taking place right after chapter 50. This timeline will focus solely on Jake getting used to living with Michael as his new owner, and Dwight doing the same under Ghostface. Enjoy!
Relationships: Dwight Fairfield/Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face, Michael Myers/Jake Park
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64
Collections: BT&C





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bear-Traps and Crows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26513128) by [PinkBellPepper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkBellPepper/pseuds/PinkBellPepper). 



Laurie struggled in Myer’s iron grip. She clawed at him in that same desperate rage she’d had since they’d been brought to the realm. She was always fighting. Always had that spirit about her that had intrigued Myers in the first place. He held her by the neck, her three friends dead and sacrificed, and the trial coming to its end. 

Myers didn’t kill her just yet. He waited a moment, reflecting on how muted he felt, even with her frantic heartbeat against his fingers. How strange - a lifetime of obsession, extinguished for another. His knife buried itself into her gut. Her cry didn’t send shivers down his spine like it used to. The blood running down her chin, the fist banging against his face, the way she gagged on her own pain… Myer’s dropped her body with an inaudible sigh. Nothing. Not anymore. 

She was just another target now. A means to an end. With her dead, this was his twelfth perfect game in a row. He wiped the blood from his blade. A nearby gen was slowly swallowed up by the hungry earth. Michael left the remnants of the trial to be buried, pausing mid-stride when a crow passed overhead. It had a red eye, flashing down at him in contemplation. The bird took a hard turn and swept down to the killer’s feet. Myer’s didn’t kick the thing away. He didn’t dare. 

“Another perfect game! Perfect!” The crow yapped. Michael had never seen the deity use this form before. He didn’t like the grating of its high-pitched voice. But its words brought hope. The Entity must have felt it. 

“You’ve been patiently waiting, stalking, killing! Out of all of my killers, you have such fluidity to your slaughter. Even without the temptation of reward.”

Michael stiffened. The crow barked a laugh. 

“Did I grab your attention? Good! An exit gate is open for you. Just walk straight, and you’ll walk right to your spoils. Always a loyal, vicious killer. Outranking even my oldest.”

Michael had allowed himself a tiny bit of satisfaction at the praise. He had developed a special hatred for Trapper, and thus, knowing he was favored in their deity’s eyes, gave him a child-like arrogance over it. When his realm had been invaded, and Myer’s lost his saboteur, he hadn’t blamed any of the other killers for their part. His vision had tunneled, until all he saw was Evan. Rage, unlike anything he’d ever felt, consumed him upon his awakening. He found his room, ransacked and bloody. His special boy, taken away. 

Michael snorted through his nose, trying not to let that rage reignite. He left to find the gate and stalked through the woods. The trees of the hub were thinning around him. He picked up his gait, leaving behind his thoughts of thieving killers and revenge. A distant voice called down from overheard. 

“... almost there! And the whores are yours!” 

Michael had grit his teeth at that. Jake wasn’t a whore. But The Entity knew what it was doing, laughing as it left its killer to his search. Myers forgot all of his annoyance as soon as he smelled it - smoke. And voices. Myers stalked towards them. He kept as silent as a shadow. And then he saw him. His saboteur, his survivor, his boy,  _ his.  _ He was curled up with the dreamwalker. They were consoling each other, both watery eyed and exhausted looking. A tiny fire cracked beside them. Too small to keep anyone warm. 

_ Enjoy your rewards. Just remember who gave them to you.  _

Michael gave a nod. The fire went out suddenly, and he waited, watching as Qunetin jerked up in shock and shook Jake’s shoulder. The two stood up, faces on alert as they held tightly to each other. Michael regarded them, wondering what to do about the dreamwalker. He’d been mulling over it since the game started, and his best idea was to just leave him here, and let The Entity give him to someone else. 

He stepped out into the clearing. Jake saw him first, eyes wide and expression in disbelief. His heartbeat picked up in anticipation, unprepared for the eagerness that gripped him at seeing his boy. Michael paused, unwilling to freak out Jake too much before he could get ahold of him. But the saboteur didn’t run. Didn’t even move, resisting Quentin who was pulling at his arm. Jake held Michael’s gaze and, in turn, Michael held out his hand, hoping beyond hope that his survivor would come willingly. Jake looked at it, a bit startled. 

“I…”

“Jake, w-what are you-?” Quentin was looking between them, growing increasingly frantic. Like a bug, pinned under a piece of glass. Michael had an urge to squash him. But Jake was gripping the boy’s shoulders with a protective stance. 

“Michael,” Jake finally spoke. Myer’s chest felt light. He wanted that voice to be screaming his name while he buried himself deep inside. “You… you won the game?” 

Michael nodded. His hand was still waiting, inviting. 

“Let Quentin go back to the fire,” Jake blurted, words quick, like he was scared Micheal wouldn’t listen. “Take him safely back home and I’ll go with you. No fighting, I promise.”

“What?! What the fuck?!” Quentin snapped. He really pulled at Jake’s arm now, tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t say that! P-please, we need to go!” 

Jake didn’t budge. Just stared at Michael, his eyes desperate and pleading. Michael felt his lips pull into a grin, his muscles unused to the position, from under his mask. He nodded and walked forward. Jake stood there, but Quentin’s fear got the best of him. He fell over backwards, trying to run for it. Myer’s easily grabbed him by the back of his shirt. Jake jumped at Myer’s arm, yelling at him to stop, obviously unhappy with how rough he was being. Michael made sure to be quick. He knocked the dreamwalker upside the head, and caught him in his arms as he passed out. 

The boy was limp, eyes fluttering shut and breathing evening out. Jake was grabbing at him, yelling at Myers for hurting him. The killer grabbed Jake’s wrist and tugged it to Quentin’s neck, letting him feel the strong heartbeat. Jake calmed, his breath still harsh as he stared at his friend’s face. Sadness began to overwhelm his anger. Tears flooded down his cheeks, but he didn’t sob. He grit his teeth, looking up to Michael. 

“Please, take him to the fire. Please, he… he needs to be with our friends. I don’t want him to be owned…”

Michael gently reached out. He took Jake’s hand and rubbed at his thumb, relishing in the feel of his skin. He nodded, then stood, keeping a light grip on his saboteur, his other hand propping a limp Quentin against his chest. Jake made sure to press close to his friend, and in turn, close to Michael. He was quiet. His attention was solely on the dreamwalker. It made Myer’s feel bitter. He couldn’t wait to drop off this dead weight. 

_ Soon, _ he told himself. _ Soon, your boy will be home, safe. _ Michael knew he’d keep playing his trials in as brutalizing a manner as he had been. There was no way he was risking The Entity taking his prize again. Or allowing anyone a chance to intrude like that again. But first… 

The deity must have already been aware of what he wanted. He felt the air shift, cold penetrating their bodies as the fog thickened. The cold seeped away as the fog did, leaving them in a new section of the woods. Jake gasped beside him. Up ahead, was the faint glow of a fire - a campfire. Myer’s grip on his hand tightened. The saboteur gripped him back, just as tight. 

“I’m not going to run,” he said quietly. “As long as you leave Quentin here, I’ll be in your debt forever. I’ll… I’ll be so fucking grateful…”

Michael didn’t want to. But he let go. Let go of Jake to set his friend gently on the ground, back against a tree. Jake crouched beside Quentin. He ran a hand through the boy’s sweaty bangs, smiling fondly and whispering something in his ear. Then he stood. 

“O-okay,” Jake said, voice quiet and defeated. “I’m ready.”

Michael didn’t move yet. He gave his boy a few more seconds to collect himself, a bit elated that he hadn’t tried to run, before gently running a hand down his back. Jake turned to him, eyes screwing shut as his emotions got the best of him. Myers wrapped him up in his chest, incredibly satisfied. To have Jake press into him, vulnerable and willing, was a better sensation than skull fucking Evan to death.

He picked up the saboteur. They couldn’t wait around. One of the survivors might spot them, and he couldn’t have Jake’s decision wavered by tearful pleas. He briskly walked into the fog. Home was waiting. 

* * *

Dwight tried to keep his breathing steady. His heart rate was threatening to go overboard again, on the edge of panic from his place in bed. He was bundled up in warm covers, face pressed into soft pillows and his glasses on the nightstand. He could make out the blurry image of Danny, hunched at his desk, polishing his knives. He had returned from a trial an hour ago, seemingly going through a check-list before his next one. 

Danny had  _ a lot  _ of weapons to choose from. The wicked, curved black blade he currently polished was shining under the dull light. Dwight promised himself he’d speak up before Danny finished with it. But fear kept him from moving - from asking a simple question. He buried his head deeper into the pillows. Danny kept working on his knife, picking out dirt in the handle, muttering something under his breath. 

Dwight bit his lip. He swallowed thickly and opened his mouth. Then snapped it shut. He briefly considered just trying to go back to sleep. But he couldn’t. His panic was stemming from a nightmare. One he had hours ago, when Danny wasn’t even here. He had laid awake, until his owner returned, eager for some distraction and soft touches. But Danny just gave him a kiss and pat on the head, claiming he had work to catch up on. Dwight didn’t dare argue, but he wanted to. Wanted to ask Danny to just sit with him, maybe pet him until his anxiety calmed. Maybe…. Maybe Danny could even…

Dwight’s eyes screwed shut in humiliation. But his cock was throbbing a bit, half-hard as he thought about Danny’s mouth around it. He was still struggling with the change. Still expecting that terrible pain to come, for Ghostface to pull the rug out from under him. 

_ He said it was okay to speak without permission. Just… just say something!  _

His tongue went dry, but it still moved, like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. 

“D-danny?” Dwight squeaked out. 

The killer stopped moving altogether, frozen over his work. Dwight immediately regretted speaking, shuffling deeper under his covers, hands holding the sheets to his mouth. He wanted to apologize, squeaking out an inaudible  _ ‘sorry’  _ before Danny looked up at him. But he was grinning. Widely. His eyes sparkled like they did after sex. 

“Yes, baby boy?” 

Dwight’s mouth couldn’t move, no matter how much he willed it to. He couldn’t even keep eye contact, bashfully looking down, face turning red in panic. 

“I-I-” He managed to sputter out two measly words before clamming up. His breath left him as Danny stood, walking towards the bed. But he was grinning, walking smoothly, calmly, like he wasn’t upset that he’d been interrupted. Dwight tried to calm himself. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Danny cooed. He raised a hand. Dwight flinched, but fingers only carted through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. The mattress dipped as the killer sat. “What’s my pretty boy need, hm?”

Dwight blinked up at him, still tongue-tied. He didn’t really think he’d get this far, to be honest. What did he even want? Attention? Comfort? In a sudden moment of realization, he knew he didn’t like being way over here while his owner was working. Master had always kept Dwight at his feet. With more bravery than he realized he had, he timidly pointed at the desk. 

“C-c-c-could-d-d I-I-I… I-I m-mean-” His face got hotter. It took a lot not to bury it back under the covers. A warm hand touched his cheek. Danny stroked a thumb along his trembling lip, as patient as ever. 

“What? You don’t like that I’m not paying attention to you?” Danny asked playfully. 

Despite the lack of malice in his words, it still had Dwight scrambling, heart racing, for anything to do or say that could rectify his mistakes. He didn’t want his owner thinking he was being selfish with his attention. 

“C-could-d-d I-I s-s-sit-t-t at-t your-r feet-t-t-t?” Dwight forced out, screwing his eyes shut. “I-I d-don’t-t w-want-t t-to b-bug-g y-you, j-just-t l-l-lean ag-against-t y-you-”

Hands settled on his shoulders. Dwight’s blubbering stopped, posture going ramrod straight as he looked up at Ghostface. The man was beaming, eyes bright and grip tight enough to bruise. It loosened, fingers massaging the area as if he didn’t realize how hard he’d been holding. 

“Oh, my baby boy, asking for attention. How can I say no?” Danny asked. He glanced at the desk in consideration. “I don’t want you sitting on the hard ground, though. You’ll scrape up your pretty skin. Maybe I can find some kind of carpet or pad for you when I work…” 

His arms folded around his pet, drawing him against his chest. He took the covers with him, wrapping them around Dwight’s shoulders and tucking him in a warm cocoon. Dwight pressed his wet cheek to his leather-clad shoulder. A hand pat his head. 

“Until then, why don’t I take a break. Daddy’s been neglecting you all night, haven’t I?”

Dwight didn’t answer. He just pressed closer into Danny, praying that this wasn’t leading to a punishment. His anxiety was still prickling from speaking up without being told to. A hand caressed his jawline. Danny drew him up for a deep kiss. When he pulled back, his voice was soft and calm. 

“How about you tell me what  _ you  _ want. What can Daddy do to make you feel good?”

Dwight was stammering again, head thrown back as lips attacked his neck, the tingling sensations going straight to his cock. 

“I-I-d-don’t-t-t-”

“Ah, come on~” Danny interrupted, nipping at his lip playfully. “How about I give you some choices, and you pick whatever you’d like.” 

Dwight nodded, face turning red. 

“Good. Now do you want my hand, or my mouth? And when you ask, ask Daddy nicely.”

“I… I…” Dwight’s mind scrambled for an answer. He didn’t choose based on his own desires. He just picked at random, feeling strange to be demanding something of his owner in the first place. “H-hand-d!” 

Danny immediately slid forward, pressing into Dwight, his hand slipping in between their bodies. Fingers brushed over his cock. Dwight sucked in a harsh breath, whining as that warm hand fisted his flesh. He humped into it, unable to control his hips. Another hand pressed into his back, urging him on. 

“Good boy, let Daddy take care of you~” 

Danny leaned in, biting Dwight’s bottom lip, bringing him into another heated kiss. Dwight pressed into it, opening his mouth, timidly playing along Danny’s prodding tongue. He groaned as his owner’s hand moved, jerking him off, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Every whimper had those hot fingers trying something new, flicking a thumb here and massaging flesh there. 

“Ah~ A-ah~ I-I’m c-c-” Dwight tried to speak, but Danny snatched his mouth again. 

“Come for me, Dwight. Come in my hand, and show me how good I make you feel~”

Dwight moaned, mouth being ravaged, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he hit his orgasm. It made his muscles lock up, body going tense, unprepared for just how violent his climax would be. Danny leaned in close as it happened. He groped Dwight’s back, pressing him as close as he could, inhaling his scent and reveling in the way he shuddered. 

“That’s it. Just like that…” Danny’s own cock was hard, and yet, just like all the times before, he was content to just hold his pet and bask in his touch. He should get up and finish working on his knives, but Dwight’s hands had fisted into his robes, refusing to let go. 

Danny smiled fondly. There was no need to rush things. Never a need, because Dwight was his, and Ghostface would never let him go. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jake was taken back to Lampkin Lane without fuss. His tears were dry by the time they reached the street.

He held tightly onto Michael’s hand, the urge to let go and run still there, but so muted, it might as well not have been. Leaving Quentin had been hard for him. But after it happened, he’d come to accept that his fate was inevitable. 

Michael scooped him up as soon as they reached the familiar steps of a house. Jake yelped, cradled to Michael’s chest as he was carried through the living room and towards the kitchen, where a basement descended under the black and white tiled floor. It wasn’t a basement with hooks, though, but a bed, a dresser, and a tiny bathroom with no door. On the opposite end of the street where he’d been kept last time. Jake was gently placed on the bed. Michael cupped his face and held him there a moment, as if just drinking in his presence. 

“So….” Jake began, almost casually, as if he wasn’t locked in some killer’s basement. “I… I wanted to thank you again, for letting Quentin stay. He… he doesn’t deserve anymore pain…”

Michael nodded, a tiny snort escaping him, as if to say:  _ Well of course, I only wanted you.  _

Jake looked away, feeling awkward as the room lapsed into silence. A hand brought him back to face the killer, sliding down to his neck. Jake gulped. The fingers squeezed lightly, urging him backwards. Jake complied, nervous as he let Michael crawl over the top of him. Thick thighs settled over the top of his. He sunk into the mattress, hands coming up to grab at Michaels wrist but not shove him away. A thumb stroked his rapidly beeping jugular, as if to calm him down. 

“C-can you use… lube?” Jake asked, face turning red for even asking. But he didn’t want any more pain. “Like last time?”

Michael made a little huff, like he found the question amusing. But he reached into his back pocket, and produced a partly empty bottle. Jake felt an immediate sense of relief. 

“I…. I thought you’d be mad, that I left,” he admitted shakily. “You aren’t… are you?”

Myers gave a slight shake of his head. He touched Jake’s chest, then pointed to his own with a nod.  _ My fault. Not yours.  _

“Out of everyone, I really am happy you won,” Jake felt that it was partially true. He’d rather had no one win. But in the end, Myers wasn’t Trapper. If Jake couldn’t be with the other survivors, then maybe he could find contentment here. “I… I trust you to be good to me. And… I’ll be good for you. I promise.”

Myers lifted his mask. His lips were pulled up in a satisfied smirk, which promptly pressed into Jake’s nervous frown. He teased his tongue inside as his hands groped and pressed the saboteur into his body. Jake weakly pushed against Myers, asking if he could take off his jacket. 

“It’s just... really hot in here.”

Myers barely stopped kissing him as he expertly unzipped the intrusive fabric. It was shed off along with his scarf and undershirt, until he was only in his pants. Hands ran over his sweaty skin. They felt nice and cool, and Jake pressed into them, thankful the touches weren’t leaving him bruised. Slowly, his pants were peeled off. 

_ Pop! _

He peaked an eye open to see the lube bottle. Myers was fumbling with it, pouring a generous amount onto his hand. His cock was already freed and quickly lathered up until it was slick and shiny. As he gathered himself up, it rubbed against Jake’s leg, hot and throbbing and needy. His heart caught in his throat as Myers’ cock rubbed closer to his hole. 

“A-are you going to just stick it in? Now?” He asked, words strung close and quick together. 

The back of his head was gently grabbed. Myer’s pressed a kiss into his forehead. He worked his way down Jake’s face, to his shoulders and to his stomach. He kept kissing until he reached between his boy’s legs, which he promptly pushed up and towards Jake’s chest. He gasped as his hole was exposed, Myer’s pressing his mouth against it, and drawing a broad stripe against the puckered skin. A hand on Jake’s neck kept him in place. 

“Oh, oh God,” Jake felt a tremor run through him. That tongue persisted, lapping gently at first, before wiggling its way inside. The saboteur's back arched. Myer’s pressed him back into the bed, holding him still as he worked. Jake began to pant, pushing onto the wet appendage, his soft cock now twitching in interest. 

He whined when the tongue pulled away. But that was quickly made up with the heat lapping at his balls, slowly working its way to his cock. He breathed a sharp inhale before he was swallowed whole. The hand around his throat tightened. And that mouth around his dick was sliding up and down, licking and lightly scraping against his teeth. 

A hand massaged his balls. It nearly had him cumming down Myer’s throat, until the heat was suddenly gone. He reached down, forgetting both his humility and who exactly he was grabbing at. It excited Myers greatly, though, and scooted closer between his legs. 

A finger breached Jake’s hole as the kissing resumed. It wasn’t too bad, and there was no pain. It just felt strange. The saboteur let Myers lead the make-out, letting himself enjoy the heat as he adjusted. But then another finger was added. He hissed and Myers attacked his neck with teeth and tongue. His free hand resumed touching Jake’s cock, but hardly aggressive enough to get him off. Jake humped into it anyway. His body was pinned by Myer’s, too heavy to do anything but lay there. 

The slick fingers were removed after several minutes. Michael grabbed himself, gently prodding Jake’s hole, keeping his mouth busy as he did. Jake still tensed. It burned - no matter how much he was prepared he knew there’d be a level of discomfort. But Myers was patient. He gave Jake as much time as he needed, pushing in little by little until his boy adjusted. 

“O-okay,” Jake breathed. “You can… move, if you want.” 

Michael made a noise of approval, and started to gently shift his hips. Jake moaned. It hurt a little, but he felt stuffed full and warm, hands playing with his nipples and a warm tongue massaging his skin. He sunk into the embrace and let the killer do his work. As his hole loosened, Michael grew more rough. Grew more passionate, the sheets crumpling around them as Jake was hammered into the bed.

“Ah! Michael! Oh god, please, please don’t stop!” 

Jake couldn’t help it. With Myer’s hand around his cock, the stimulation was too much. Michael came at the same time, only because Jake came first, clenching around him so nicely, calling out his name in ecstasy. Michael wrapped him up in his arms. He thrust a few more times, petting Jake’s head, refusing to remove himself completely. 

And the saboteur didn’t mind. In fact, he felt more sated than he had in a long time. Maybe even safe, in Myer’s grip, so long as no other killers came sniffing around. The thought had tears springing to Jake’s eyes and before he knew it, he was clinging desperately to Michael, crying. He couldn’t help it. He’d been thrown around the realm, to so many places, that he just wanted to be somewhere  _ and stay.  _

Immediately, Michael slipped out of him, hand prodding gently as if checking for damage. Jake shook his head. 

“N-no, I’m sorry, I just…” He took a breath, calming himself. “I just don’t want to go anywhere. I keep being kidnapped, or taken by The Entity, and I just… please keep me safe.”

Michael gave him a nod. Jake’s tears were dried with the corner of the sheet before it was used to wrap up the saboteur - nice and warm. He relaxed into Michael’s hold. The killer stood, taking him to the bathroom to clean up. A far cry from the first time they met, Jake didn’t fight. He let his new owner take care of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Natsu5 - Thank you!!! <3 <3 <3
> 
> @Little Dweet - I hope to do a timeskip with this one, so we can see what Dwight would look like after all of Evan’s training is reverted into something different. Same for Jake, growing to love Michael and all that ;)
> 
> @Ibrahim4649999 - I’m happy you’re enjoying the route so far!
> 
> @Souxie - ask for smut, and you will receive smut!! Lol, I’m excited to write and explore how their relationship develops! He’s going to treat his pet much differently than Evan did 
> 
> @Donatella_Prime - Thank you for reading!! 
> 
> @actually_lost - yes!! Michael is very excited to have his boy back as well, and I’m sure Jake is happy not to go back to Evan for sure XD


End file.
